The Return of the Headless Horseman
by KurtandBlaineGleek
Summary: 1890, one hundred years after the disappearance of Ichabod Crane and last known activity of the Headless Horseman, Blaine Anderson turns up in Sleepy Hollow to write a story. The horseman may just be smitten with him. Please R&R. Rating for safety!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Am I crazy for starting yet another fic? Yes, I am. I like to multi-task but this idea came to me again while reading another fic and I just had to start it. Though it springs from a very classic tale I'm sure many of us are well aware of, this is entirely fiction.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, which is a shame, nor am I in anyway connected with The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

Hello. Welcome to my humble abode. You look familiar. Oh? Oh yes now I remember. You were the one quite interested in The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. What are you doing back here? Curious for more stories of the hollow? Well, I'm afraid that after the likes of Mr. Crane and the Horseman, there really was nothing more of interest. Although, now that I think about, there was a tale of splendor that awoke in the hollow exactly one hundred years after Ichabod arrived in Tarrytown, most particularly, our little Glen of Sleepy Hollow. From the day of his disappearance, until this time one hundred years later neither the young schoolmaster, nor the horseman had ever been sighted. Ichabod's whereabouts are still unknown but after the events of 1890, it is believed that the horseman, fell in love.

Many people believe today that truly, the horseman was only feared by those who saw nothing but death when it came to him. Ichabod feared the horseman after experiencing the beheadings in the Sleepy Hollow after he arrived. We still don't know if it's true that it was he and Miss. Katrina Van Tassel who found the horseman's missing head. Though everyone believed that was what stopped the killings. It was said many times that the horseman sought others heads until he could retrieve his own.

But that's a story you already know. I believe you were interested in something new? Yes, well, this can kind of be seen as a sequel I guess you could say. This is the story of a young man named Blaine Anderson and how many of the townspeople of Sleepy Hollow believed he captured the horseman's heart. Unfortunately, like Ichabod Crane one hundred years earlier, Blaine has mysteriously disappeared. He has once again, taken the horseman with him. Neither, nor Ichabod has been see since.

Let's see, where to begin. Oh yes, let's start with the day that young Blaine arrived in Sleepy Hollow…

**xxx**

It was a late September day in the year 1890, roughly one hundred years after the disappearance of a young schoolmaster, which struck young Blaine as quite odd and though he had heard the stories, he insisted on seeing the town for himself. He was keen on writing a story for the New York Journal, hoping that the article would land him a more permanent job. Scrounging for work at his young age was daunting. He really should be attending university. But after the death of his parents and their wages having run the pot, Blaine was next to nil where dowry was concerned. In short, he was of the poor community, living from night to night on minimal wages he earned playing music in pubs and sleeping in inns.

Now, he was traveling by carriage to the town of Sleepy Hollow and though it had been one hundred years since any sign of the Headless Horseman had been seen, he was determined to learn as much about the legend as he possibly could. Blaine was not frightened in the least. He had his trusty motto, one simple word. _Courage_. Now if only he could apply it better.

One hand ghosting over his neatly greased back curls, Blaine raised his other to tighten the bow that held the short ponytail neatly at the base of his neck. He swallowed as his eyes watched the trees from the window of the carriage. He was fearful that those in Sleepy Hollow would discover his secret. He was not exactly interested in the idea of marriage, at least, not to a female. Such things were a ghastly part of personality in the modern world and he could not bring himself to allow anyone to know that his tendencies were for the hand of a man.

A sigh broke the young man's lips and he turned his eyes to the front of the carriage, seeing only the empty seat across from him as the sound of the wheels on gravel from the road beneath the carriage started to dwindle. They were slowing down. Blaine again tightened the bow tying back his hair and straightened his jacket. He had done his best to dress to impress but with little money and a mediocre life at best it wasn't really much. Hand-me-downs mostly from his late father. He was quite surprised at how well his father's clothes had fit on his five foot nine inch frame. He was tall by modern day height standards.

Eyes roamed back to the window as the carriage trundled to a complete stop. Blaine was surprised to find what appeared to be a young woman and a rather gigantic looking young man awaiting the arrival of the carriage. He had not been expecting anyone to greet him. However, as he stepped out of the carriage, the young woman produced her hand to him. "Mr. Anderson, welcome to Sleepy Hollow," she said. Her voice was of a slight higher pitch than most women Blaine knew and he got this sense that she might be a difficult one to keep company with.

"Thank you," Blaine replied politely, doing the gentlemanly thing by kissing her hand. A light giggle left the young woman's mouth. The young man looked slightly perturbed by the action but merely stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "Forgive me, fore I was not expecting a welcome committee upon my arrival," he said, bowing in apology. "I see you are aware of who I am, but I'm afraid I am not aware of you are miss."

The woman smiled politely, though Blaine found that it was not really of the enchanting nature. It more said that she was better than everyone else. He brushed it off. "Forgive me Mr. Anderson. I am Rachel Berry, descendent of the Van Tassel and Van Brunt families," she introduced, curtsying slightly. "And this strapping young man beside me if my fiancé Finn Hudson," she said. The young man called Finn nodded his head in greeting.

Blaine found himself momentarily lost in thought. She was a descendent of the Van Tassels and Van Brunts? That would explain why she had come to greet him. Word had been set on ahead to Sleepy Hollow to allow them to know that he would be coming, in light of writing a story on the old legend. Though it had been a hundred years since the last of the activities of the horseman, Blaine was quite pleased to learn that there were descendents of those who had been around at the time of the beheadings and disappearance of the schoolmaster.

Ever since he was a young boy, Blaine had been fascinated by the stories of the town of Sleepy Hollow. He was all but thrilled to be standing in that very place right at the moment. The vast trees behind him twisted and turned into the dark wood. The horseman, if he still existed would be in there somewhere. And as trying to confirm the hope that he did still exist Blaine could swear that he heard the neigh of a horse in the distance. That might have just been his imagination and as he turned toward the wood in lee of the sound, he brushed it off as such.

But as Blaine turned back to allow Rachel and Finn to lead him into the town and get him settled, he was completely oblivious to the man sitting atop a horse some distance away, watching him with ever fiber of his being. This man was tall and slender, about an inch and a half or so taller in height than Blaine but vastly shorter than that giant Finn, who stuck out like a sore thumb in these modern times. He was a head taller than the last time anyone had ever seen him, which was one hundred years earlier. He was considered, immortal, as death had taken his mortality from him.

One hundred years ago, a foolish schoolmaster by name of Ichabod Crane had come to the town of Sleepy Hollow. He had intervened with the horseman's duties. He had been punished! As a prize, despite the fact that it had been Ichabod and that Katrina who had found his true head, the horseman had taken that of the schoolmaster. It now resided in a sack that hung from the side of his horse. It was his trophy. But Katrina, she had gotten away. He had let her go and disappeared from sight. The townspeople, they thought it had been the last of him.

Now though, as he watched young Blaine disappear into the town with that foolish descendent of Katrina's and that giant dumb oaf, he found reason to return. He had a new quest now. He was no longer interested in stealing heads as trophies. No. Now, he was after a heart. That of the young man he had just watched arrive. Fore the horseman had found him to be the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. He sat atop his horse watching the young man until he disappeared. A sentence, a single string of words that became the first he had ever spoken since the day he had met death so many years ago escaped his mouth.

"Beware lad, fore I will make you mine," he said. His voice was of a delicate octave, much higher in pitch than any other male. He had a few secrets, things the people of Sleepy Hollow would never know. But he did intend to reveal them to Blaine. He would meet him and he would do it on calm terms. He would prove that he did not intend to hurt him. Perhaps, it would due if he showed up without the horse.

His eyes cast down at the elegant black beauty upon which he sat. Not in as many years had he once slid from its back. And now, he did just that. Swinging one leg over to the other side, he slid from his mount and patted its mane. The horse neighed. Tightening the delicate ponytail, which his perfectly coifed medium brown hair was tied back in so perfectly, he placed a gentle kiss to the horse's snout. In the next second, it galloped away. He would see it again. But now, now he had to find this young man and he had to claim his heart. And he intended on doing it without ever letting Blaine know that he was the one formerly known as the Headless Horseman.

**A/N: Seemed like the perfect place to end the first chapter! What do you guys think? My take on a Sleepy Hollow sequel using the characters of our Glee! And yes, this is a Klaine fic if you couldn't tell. I thought it would be too obvious to make Blaine the horseman and Kurt the young man, so I decided to go the other way around. More about the horseman's history and legend in the next chapter! Keep in mind this will be of my own ideas. Though much will be taken from the actual story of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow, I'm going to have my own ideas and notions of some of the theories. I'm allowed to. xD This story is completely a work of fiction though, Please review! They're my writing fuel! I love to know what my readers are thinking!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Another chapter so soon? I know, too excited. This will probably be the last update for the night, unless I can manage to squeeze in a second chapter for OAW. That would be nice! Anyway, enjoy! Warning for slight graphic violence!**

Rachel and Finn brought Blaine indoors, a house Rachel said was that of her family. She smiled at the young man, apparently pleasant with the fact that he had arrived. It was starting to make Blaine uncomfortable but when he glanced to the giant Finn for support, he just shrugged. The guy was obviously not the brightest of people. None of them knew that the horseman had been watching. Rachel went about preparing tea for several minutes before she came to the table at which Blaine was sat with the teapot and an album.

"What is this?" Blaine asked as the young woman slid the album toward him. She sat up straight, sipped her tea, and politely folded her hands in her lap. She nodded her head, indicating for him to open it. Blaine looked at her curiously but did so. The first thing he saw was an old news clipping of a man with a caption that read _Ichabod Crane_. Blaine nearly choked on his tea as he took a sip. "You have news clippings from a hundred years ago?" he asked in surprise.

Rachel nodded and sipped her tea again. "Oh yes. This album has been passed down in my family for as long as I can remember," she said, setting her teacup down. She leaned over and flipped a few pages of the album, stopping at a picture of a young woman. "This is Katrina. After Ichabod disappeared, she married Abraham." Blaine gave her a questioningly look but she didn't seem to get his meaning. So he spoke his confusion instead.

"Abraham?" he asked, lifting one of his triangular eyebrows. To his great surprise, it was Finn who offered the reply.

"That was Brom's real name. Brom Bones was only his nickname. His real name was Abraham Van Brunt," he said. Blaine was a bit surprised that the giant-like man seemed to have words in him at all. Frankly, he had started to believe that Finn was a mute. But he was no doubt relieved that the other could speak. He had been getting a bit creeped by the fact that he wasn't saying anything. Finn seemed to clarify his surprise. "I'm not really much of a talker usually," he stated, shrugging. Rachel passed her fiancé a smile.

Blaine suddenly felt like he needed air. Though in the time they had been in the house, the sky had grown dark, as it was late in the day when he had finally arrived. The wind was blowing and it was picking up in harshness. Taking a last sip of the tea, he stood from the table. Rachel suddenly placed a hand on his arm. "My dear Mr. Anderson," she said. "You can't be thinking of going out in that. There's supposed to be a storm afoot," she went on. Blaine gave her what he hoped was an apologetic smile and gently removed her hand from his arm.

"I need the air Miss. Berry," he said, not unkindly. "Thank you very much for your hospitality. I think I'll see myself out and check in at an inn a noticed when we were walking here," he went on. Finn looked somewhat a cross between relieved and a bit concerned. Blaine was surprised to find that it seemed he didn't really think he should be going out in the brewing bad weather. "Besides, the horseman hasn't been seen in one hundred years, right? I should have nothing to worry about." Rachel looked unconvinced. The young woman bit her lip and wrapped her hands tightly around Finn's arm.

Bowing his head in a second mode of gratitude, Blaine opened the door and stepped out into the awaiting wind. Little did he know but a figure stood mere feet from the house watching him. The coifed medium dark brown head and piercing blue-green-gray eyes flashing in the early fleck of lighting that lit the sky. His attire looked like that of a soldier decked in black. And still, Blaine walked oblivious.

Back inside the house, Rachel had stood and retrieved a book from the marvelous bookcase. She was still biting her lip. "I probably should have started with the horseman's story," she said. Finn raised a brow at his young fiancée. Curiosity was written across his face. "Don't tell me you've grown up here and you've never heard the story of the horseman?" she said in a surprising tone of voice. Finn shook his head. He crossed the room and sat in an armchair conveniently placed in front of the fire, turning his eyes on the flames.

"I know more than you think I do." Rachel was caught off-guard by such words. Her fiancé indicated for her to take a seat and so she did. "This may not be something you believe, but the man my mother gave her second marriage to, he claims he is related to the horseman." That struck Rachel with complete curiosity and she leaned forward in her seat in a very unfeminine way. Her fathers would have scolded her for the unacceptable way she was currently sitting. Finn started in on the story, knowing he had caught her attention. And despite having the book, Rachel had never heard the story of the horseman told quite like he told it. His version was the first she'd heard that gave the horseman a real name.

_The young soldier glanced over his shoulder, beating kindly at the animal beneath him to run faster. Though he would not admit it, fear bit through his body. Kurt Hummel was the soldier's name. He was being chased. Not by enemies, but by his own comrades. This was not to do with the war or traitorism. Oh no, it had something to do with a secret, a secret that went against mankind and appalled the rest of the world._

"_Come on Midnight," he said to the horse. "Faster! They're gaining!" Kurt still had no idea how they had discovered his secret. He had kept it hidden as well as anyone could. Had they seen him? Had they seen him kissing that other boy? The young soldier was only but eighteen. His life fighting in the war was his greatest honor and now he was being hunted down because they knew. They knew he preferred to kiss males. This was not sanitary. This was not the way of the world. This was hated among all humans. He was not counted as normal. They could have discharged him from the military and had him banished. Kurt would have settled for that. But no, their punishment…kill him. And that was how he had come to be running from his own comrades._

_He still couldn't figure out how it was they had found out the truth. His heart thumped in his chest as the horse attempted to go faster but the next thing he knew, the animal was skidding to a halt at the edge of a cliff. With the sounds of hooves behind him, there was no time to turn around and rush off in another direction. Not to mention, it was the dead of winter. Snow impacted their movement and it would slow them down even more if they veered off the path. He was cornered._

_A swallow wet his dry throat and Kurt turned his head. His comrades had caught up to him. They were pulling their horses to a stop. Midnight neighed in fear beneath Kurt. "Your days are numbered Kurt Hummel! You have disgraced the name of human people!" shouted General Karofsky. Kurt swallowed a second time. "Any last words?" but General Karofsky didn't bother to actually give him a chance to respond. "Grab him!" he shouted in the next second._

_Kurt's breath caught in his throat as two of his comrades grabbed him roughly and pulled him off the horse. They held his arms tightly as Kurt struggled against their hold. It was no use. "Shoot the horse!" Karofsky ordered than. The next thing Kurt knew, a gun had been fired and with a high pitched neigh, the beautiful animal that was his horse collapsed to the ground, head landing with a squish in the snow._

"_Please!" Kurt shouted as he continued to struggle against his captors to no avail. "Please, you're making a mistake! It wasn't what you thought!" he tried, knowing that was likely to be no help at all. Karofsky threw his head back and laughed for several long minutes before he nodded back at a few soldiers. Kurt's eyes went wide to see a cannon being rolled up to the front of the pack. Fear gripped his body and he struggled harder. But the harder he struggled, the harder the two soldiers gripped his arms. "Please!" he begged again, knowing that it was not going to get him anywhere._

_General Karofsky cleared his throat and pulled a scroll from inside his jacket. "Kurt Hummel, for your crimes, you are condemned to die!" Since when was kissing someone a crime? Just because it had been another boy and not a girl, that made it a crime punishable by death? Kurt was stunned, suddenly angry, and still very scared. "Load the cannon!"_

_The young soldier watched as two of his former comrades picked up a cannon ball and pushed it into the cannon, followed by the powder and Karofsky nodded his head. A third soldier lit the wick. "Say your prayers Hummel!" Karofsky spat, venom dripping off his every word. "Aim!" Kurt squeezed his eyes shut tight. He could feel his heart thumping heavily in his chest. "Fire!"_

_The cannon went off right on cue and Kurt barely had time to blink before the heavy ball smashed hard into his face, blowing his head clean off of his neck. Kurt's limp body dropped into the snow. His head flew over the cliff and disappeared into the mass of woods below. Karofsky's voice filled the air with laughter. And without giving the headless body of one Kurt Hummel a burial, he reared his horse, turned and galloped away, his comrades following him._

"And with that last bit of anger as he died, began the horseman's long reign as the spirit of the wood," Finn finished. Rachel's knuckles were white with terror. The tale had been completely gruesome and she knew that she should not have let Finn tell her. She would have nightmares for weeks. The two fell into an uncomfortable silence as Rachel allowed her mind to wander in thought and again, she worried about young Mr. Anderson.

Outside in the harsh wind, the figure watching Blaine decided it was time that they met. His head returned, knowledge that all those that had hurt him were long gone and their family lines so far progressed that the heart still in him could not see them as guilty any longer the anger had evaporated from the horseman's body. He no longer felt the desire to kill another human being. But he was still restless. He wanted to get back something that he had long been deprived of. He wanted to get back love, the one thing that just might settle his spirit and make him completely the man he had once been again. The horseman was Kurt Hummel.

Taking a deep breath and feeling his heart thud as he watched the young man battle the gaining wind, Kurt followed and God have mercy on his makeshift grave. He would have this young man for his own.

**A/N: I know, I know! I wanted Kurt and Blaine to actually meet in this chapter too but it just seemed right to end it there. They will definitely have their first meeting in the next chapter! What did you think? And the cannon ball blowing off Kurt's head, I actually got that from the info on the plot of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow that I found on wikipedia. So credit for that bit of the scenario goes to the author of the original tale. Reviews make me keep writing and they make my day so please review! Love you guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: And here we go with the next chapter! This is going to be the first time the horseman and our hero Blaine, speak! What will happen now? Read on and enjoy!

Blaine struggled through the cold, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. He wished his father had had a heavy overcoat or something much warmer than his current attire. But he had to get to that inn. He needed to get there and get some sleep. In the morning, he had intentions and seeing about learning as much on the horseman as he possibly could. This was going to make for a very interesting story once he was able to gather enough information to write the article. He was quite sure that it would be good enough to land him a permanent job.

He hoped that he didn't have to stay long. Though he would not admit it aloud, Sleepy Hollow kind of made his blood boil. He shivered and not because of the cold. It was a dark little town and as the first heavy drop of rain from the brewing storm landed on top of his greased head, Blaine knew that time was short. How far was that inn anyway? Was he even going in the right direction? Surely it was not possible to get lost in such a small town. But he could barely see an inch in front of his face, due to darkness and the slow progression of heavy drops starting to form a blanket of obscure vision in front of him.

"You'll catch your death out here you know!" called a voice. Blaine came to a stop and looked around. A man, one he found at first glance to be quite stunning was standing a few feet from him. He was dressed in all black with his arms folded. And though Blaine could not tell completely, there seemed to be a bit of an obstruction of some sort around his collar. He squinted. The man graced him with the faintest of smiles. He did not show teeth. It was a tight, closed mouth grin and why did that look so stunningly beautiful?

The young man shook his head vigorously. The drops of rain were now pounding lightly atop his head. It was starting to wash away the grease. There was no doubt that it would pop free his curls and wash the ribbon tying his ponytail loose of his hair. He reached up in an effort to tighten it. Blaine licked his lips, which he found oddly dry despite being pelted with raindrops. "Who are you?" he asked, voice surprisingly solid. That glimpse of a smile grew just a bit on the other's face.

"My name is Kurt," the man said. Blaine watched him for several moments. He was not afraid of this delicate beauty. What stunned him even more was the high pitch of his voice. It was delicately defined, curved with beauty and angelic tones. No doubt a feature that was unique only to this individual. Blaine wondered if he should press for more information when the man spoke again. "That is all you really need to know," he said, raising a delicately pale hand and gracefully waving away the question before it had even made it's way from Blaine's brain to his lips. "I might ask, who are you, oh brave one to venture out during such horrendous weather conditions." He clasped his hands in front of himself, giving the slightest of bows.

Blaine found himself unafraid and he boldly took a step closer to the man, who had introduced himself merely as Kurt. Kurt. Such a beautiful name it was. He swallowed, aware suddenly that his throat had thickened and become dry. His heart fluttered. He was beginning to wonder if love at first sight was in fact real. "I am Blaine Anderson. I have come here from New York in the hope of writing a story on the legend," he said, bowing politely. Kurt gave a nod of his head and started to walk around Blaine.

"The legend? My dear young Blaine, are you interested in the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow?" he asked. How could he speak of it so casually? How could he seemingly not be affected by the nature of the legend? Blaine, failing to find words, nodded his head. Kurt went on. "You are aware that the horseman has not been seen for one hundred years, I am sure?" he asked. Again, Blaine nodded his head, swallowing a second time. This was very odd. "Than I am curious," Kurt said, walking close behind Blaine and startling the young man as he allowed his hand to ghost over his shoulders. The touch sent tingles down Blaine's spine and he shivered for a reason other than cold. "Why bring the thought of him back to the town now? The people have lived in peace knowing that it is likely the horseman will not return."

Blaine had not thought of that. Kurt was right. Who was he to stir up old stories and myths? Who was he to bring fear about a town when the thing that had frightened them most for years had not been seen or heard of in one hundred years? Perhaps he should return to New York. But he didn't want to. He found himself drawn to Kurt and he did not wish to leave him suddenly. "Do you know anything of this horseman?" he asked suddenly. That brought another smile to Kurt's face and he came around to stand directly in front of Blaine, raising one of his pale hands to lightly stroke the young man's cheek.

"More than people might think," he said. Blaine was enchanted by the touch. He was enchanted by the voice. He was enchanted by the fact that just a few more inches and the two of them would be close enough to touch lips with one another. And oh how Blaine wanted to brush his own against Kurt's. Oh how delicious the other's mouth looked. Oh how startlingly blue-green Kurt's eyes were. Blaine found himself captivated. "See something you like?" Kurt remarked, gracing him with another smile. Blaine couldn't tear his eyes away. But the close proximity gave him a clearer look at the obstruction of the other's neckline and it took all his will not to gasp.

There was a light thin jagged scar that transversed around the other's neck. Blaine was quite sure it went all the way around. It was as though this individual had lost his head and had it sewed back on. But surely that was not possible. The man couldn't have lived through something like that. And yet, here he was standing in front of Blaine breathing and close enough that the young man could feel his hot breath on his skin, a fact that had goosebumps traveling all down his body.

Blaine shook his head.

"Is there a problem?" Kurt asked. Blaine forced his eyes back up to those gorgeous orbs he had found himself getting lost in and shook his head. Kurt dropped his hand from Blaine's face and the young man found himself missing its presence there intently. Instead, the other wrapped his pale fingers delicately in the grasp of Blaine's own hand and turned to start walking. "Come. The inn is no place for you. I will give you somewhere much better to stay." Blaine found that he wanted to protest. He couldn't trespass on Kurt's hospitality. That wouldn't be entirely fair. But he couldn't bring himself to say so. He was intrigued and he could tell that despite the gruesome looking scar, he was falling for this young mysterious creature. His heart yearned to be with him and he didn't think he could leave him if he tried now.

Kurt walked in silence, pulling Blaine along with him, heading for the wood. He had caught him. He had entrapped Blaine in his power. Not real power of course. He had never had any real power. But the charm that he had always held within him, even as a living man was enough to make even the straightest of men fall for him. But Blaine, Blaine he just knew did not have a thirst for females. He would not lie. He had watched that brainless oaf of a fiancé of that Berry girl's for quite some time before he became engaged to the girl. For a while, he had even fantasized that he was the one he wanted. But it was not to be and he had brushed it away. However, knowing that the young man's stepfather was a descendent of his own family, he found himself feeling close to him, as though he needed to protect him.

"Why are we going into the woods?" Blaine asked suddenly from behind him. Kurt threw a very small glance over his shoulder at him, grinning ever so slightly. He was pleased that Blaine did not sound terrified. He merely sounded curious.

"I like my privacy," he said shortly and pulled him along into the thick of the trees. Nothing more was said as they walked. They continued to walk for a good deal of time. The trees were giving them shelter from the heavy storm, which Blaine could hear pounding down on the town of Sleepy Hollow they had left behind. He wondered if he would be seeing Miss. Berry and Mr. Hudson again anytime soon. But those thoughts quickly drifted from his head when Kurt finally spoke again. "Here we are. Home sweet home."

Blaine turned to look and was stunned to see a decent sized cabin sitting in the heart of the deepest wood. There was light in one of the windows. Kurt turned to look at him, lifting his hand and stroking Blaine's cheek yet again. Blaine wondered if someone was already inside. Kurt graced him with a smile. "You don't live alone, do you?" he found himself asking as he leaned into to the other's touch. Kurt shook his head only in the slightest, continuing to stroke Blaine's cheek.

"She's only my spell caster," he said simply. Dropping his hand, he took hold of Blaine's once more. Blaine wondered how that could just be something he could shake off. He didn't understand anything that was going on. Kurt pulled him gently along again, slowly climbing the steps and stopping once more at the door. Without warning, he once more let go of Blaine's hand and lifted both of his. Placing them on either side of the young man's face, Kurt said, "Welcome home Blaine." Blaine only had a split second to be confused by the statement before he found that Kurt's lips were on his.

This kiss was unlike anything Blaine had ever experienced before in his life. He wanted it to last forever but almost as soon as Kurt had laid touch, he pulled away again. It was short and sweet and nothing more than a long sort of peck. Kurt brushed his thumbs over the other's cheeks. Despite the briefness of the kiss, Blaine found his breath had been taken away. He stared in longing at the beautiful man beside him as Kurt turned the knob on the door and pushed it open.

"Prepare my room Mercedes," he said very shortly as he pulled Blaine into the cabin. Blaine looked to see a woman with dark skin stand from a chair in which she sat by the fire. She gave Kurt a nod and spoke not a word before disappearing through a doorway down the hall. Kurt looked at Blaine. "You will stay with me in my room. My spell caster will see to it that we are both comfortable and then, she will return to her own home," he said. Blaine was confused.

"I thought you didn't live alone," he said, finding his voice and discovering it came out in a soft whisper. Kurt had started for the chair Mercedes had just vacated. He turned and inclined his head ever so slightly to one side and Blaine suddenly became aware that despite being out in the pouring rain, he was completely untouched by nature's crying. He wondered how that could be.

"I never said I didn't. She stays from time to time. But she does not live here." Blaine found himself strangely understanding of this. He nodded his head shortly. "Make yourself comfortable. You shall be staying here for quite some while." The young man felt his breath catch. "Don't be so frightened. I promise, it will all be worth your while." With that, Kurt's eyes went to the fireplace and Blaine found that yes, he didn't mind staying here at all. Slowly, he lowered himself into a chair, finding that there was no place he'd rather be now, than with this beautiful man.

**A/N: End of chapter three and the beginning of our love story! Apologies if the characters appear OOC but it fits the story and if you think about it, they aren't really our Glee friends here. Hope you enjoyed! Please review! I'm curious what you guys are thinking about this one. Should I continue it?**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey guys! Terribly sorry for the wait! Been busy with stuff and stupid Word has been freezing a lot on me lately. It's doing it now even as I write this. But I will prevail! I hope you enjoy this long awaited fourth chapter for The Return of The Headless Horseman!

Blaine watched Kurt for some time. The mysterious beautiful man was staring into the fire. The tips of his long pale fingers were pressed together and it seemed as though his mind were drifting in thought. What kind of thought, Blaine wondered. What did such a beautiful creature think about? Were there untold stories that he saw playing out in that fire? Blaine turned his own eyes on those flames bursting from the logs and providing heat to the room.

"Sir?" spoke a voice. Kurt turned his head and Blaine mimicked his actions. The spell castor was standing just beside the front door, her hands clasped graciously in front of her. "Your room has been prepared sir," she said, bowing her dark head ever so slightly. That glimmer of a closed mouth smile Blaine had quickly come to adore flickered its way across Kurt's face.

"Thank you Mercedes," Kurt said in that oh so delicate voice of his. Blaine felt chills go down his spine. "The covers have been turned as well?" he asked. Mercedes nodded her head. "Very well than, you may go," he said than, waving one of his pale hands in a delicate manner to dismiss her in an informal way. Blaine was quite surprised. Kurt appeared to excuse the poor woman as though she was but a mere servant and yet he had been so polite in doing so. Again, Mercedes nodded her dark head and not another word was spoken as she opened the door and hurried out into the night. Blaine felt sorry for her, having to travel all the way to her home in that horrible weather. If Kurt didn't seem to be bothered by her going out in that weather, why did he care so much about Blaine?

The young man waited for the pale figure to return to his seat but he did not. Instead, Kurt walked towards the hall, apparently heading for the bedroom. When he became aware that Blaine had not moved from his seat by the fire, he stopped and turned curtly in his spot, clasping his pale hands neatly behind his back. That closed mouth smile was back on his beautiful and delicate face. Blaine felt his breath catch and for reasons unknown willed himself to stand. He nearly stumbled in doing so.

The response was a light chuckle.

"You find humor in my inability to stand straight?" Blaine asked, a biting sting of hurt within his words. It did not seem to phase Kurt who walked forward and came to a stop just in front of Blaine. The young man found himself once more gazing in those beautiful orbs set under long dark lashes. How could anyone be so beautiful? Blaine's breath caught for what felt like the millionth time that very night.

"My dear Blaine, you have been indulging in the art of observation," Kurt stated. He held out a hand to him and Blaine hesitated for only a moment before he took it. "It provides such a natural reaction. You were paying your feet no comfort of mind." Blaine found himself frowning a slight bit at the other's choice of words. Why was his speech so delicately fragile? It was rather quite strange and the young man from New York found he had never heard anything like it before. It both thrilled him and sent tingles down his spine. He shuddered ever so slightly.

The warmth of the fire suddenly gave Blaine the awareness of how tired he truly was. He had traveled nearly all day to get to Sleepy Hollow and the excitement with Miss. Berry and Mr. Hudson that had briefly followed and then meeting this mysterious man who was Kurt. It was all much too much for one day. He tried hard to stifle the yawn that found its way to his mouth, knowing such a gesture was rude.

Again, the response was a light chuckle. Again, Blaine frowned.

"Why do you laugh at me so?" he asked. Kurt raised his free hand and stroked the other's cheek gently for a few moments.

"You are so delicately unaware of your actions. You are tired. I am tired. We shall retire to bed now." Blaine wondered what exactly going to bed entailed when it came to the mind of this man. He didn't say anything as Kurt led him out of the living room and down the hall. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was afraid that maybe, Kurt could hear it. A terrifying thought crossed Blaine's mind. With if Kurt was one of those blood sucking creatures? What did they call them? Vampires? He certainly would fit the profile of one. And Blaine thought one of their many talents was captivating their victims.

But after another moment, he realized how ridiculously silly that sounded. Blaine had heard no stories of blood sucking creatures coming out of Sleepy Hollow. Surely if there were such things here, Miss. Berry would have told him. She seemed keen to talk for hours on the town's history. Just remembering it caused Blaine to give a slight roll of the eyes. It was not exactly polite of him to think so but that Miss. Berry was rather on the annoying side.

Kurt led him into the room from which Mercedes had emerged and Blaine found himself captivated by the romantic dark beauty of the room. Trimmed in crimsons and delicate blacks with splashes of browns or were those golds, it was a captivating beauty. A deep romantic beauty. The pleased expression on Kurt's face told Blaine that the room might not have been this way before Mercedes had set foot in it. Indeed, he got the feeling that it had been quite a different room when they had first arrived.

"She has done well," Kurt said lightly. He walked over to a corner in which Blaine realized there was a washtub placed and carefully, Kurt lit a single candle standing beside it. He proceeded to begin removing his clothing and Blaine felt his whole body grown hot as the flush covered his cheeks. He turned his eyes away as Kurt stripped his shirt revealing his smooth pale chest. He looked down at the floor, feeling like he was intruding. "Don't be afraid Blaine," Kurt said, seemingly seeing the young man's reaction. Blaine wanted to tell him that this was inappropriate. But something in the other's voice gave him the courage to look at him. He gasped, inhaling sharply.

Kurt was standing by the washtub, his hands now gripping the cool metal basin. His chest was bare and Blaine was surprised to see that even given his slim nature, he was nicely impacted with toned structure. How it worked on someone with such a slender figure, Blaine had yet to figure out. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself taking several steps closer until he was standing inches from the other.

Blaine could feel the increased speed of his breathing as he stared at the man. He wanted to touch him. But he stayed his hand, fearing about what he would get in return. "Are you going to bathe?" Kurt asked gently. He reached forward with his hand, taking Blaine's and raising it to his own cheek, allowing his smooth soft skin to nuzzle itself against the back of Blaine's rather rougher hand. Blaine shook. He didn't think about bathing. He didn't know he had been expected to do so with Kurt. He bit his lip, not sure if he wanted to tempt this. Why was this man so fearless?

But one thing he didn't know was that Kurt was not fearless. Kurt's heart – or lack there of, seeing as he was dead – felt as though its after death beat was booming. He wondered if Blaine could hear it. In truth, Kurt was fearful, very fearful. He'd learned to appear so fearless from his rage as the horseman that terrified Sleepy Hollow. But he was no longer that raging man. He was Kurt again. The same soldier he had been the day he had died. He had his head back. There was no reason to remain so rageful. He wanted Blaine. He wanted him to touch him and yet the shyness that had existed in his living self was beginning to crack its shell. He hadn't had a time to truly be who he was in so long. It was coming out slowly.

Slowly, he lowered Blaine's hand from his face that closed mouth smile still there. He gently dragged the other man's hand down his pale chest, biting his lip to keep his own breath from hitching. Blaine shuddered and Kurt moved the man's hand to rest where his heart would have been beating. How it was beating though he was dead, that was magic. All due to his spell castor. He didn't want Blaine to know he was dead. He didn't want him knowing who he truly was, not yet. No, he had to make him fall in love with him, in a way that Blaine wouldn't care about the truth. He would love him anyway.

"Bathe?" Blaine asked, pulling Kurt out of his thoughts. He was staring at the spot that Kurt had placed his hand. The smiled on his face pulled up a bit more at the corners and Kurt raised that hand again and gently kissed its fingertips. "I had one of those this morning before I went on my journey," he said.

Kurt stared at him intently for a moment. "Fine," he said delicately. Reaching up his other hand, he gently pulled the ribbon from Blaine's hair, freeing the man's wild curls. "We will just retire than." Grabbing Blaine's free hand, he gently led him over to the bed. A nice big bed with a dark crimson canopy, hanging from the four posts. Blaine was startled by the fact that Kurt did not seem to want to bathe without him.

But when the other man sat him down on the bed, Blaine realized he had nothing really to sleep in. Kurt graced him with another of those splendidly gorgeous smiles. He sat himself next to Blaine on the bed, which Blaine found was immensely comfortable. "Don't be afraid," Kurt whispered. He reached his hands up and pushed the worn jacket Blaine was wearing from his shoulders, Blaine not even having realized that he had undone the buttons already. His slim fingers made quick work of the ruffled white shirt Blaine was wearing as well. A shiver ran all over the young man's body, but somehow he was not afraid. He allowed Kurt to slide his shirt from his shoulders and trail a hand lightly down his chest.

A sucked in breath and Kurt smiled even more. He pushed Blaine down on the bed and expertly lifted his legs, setting them on the bed so that Blaine lay straight. And then, Kurt worked off his shoes. "There," he said as he set them on the floor. Blaine watched as Kurt's slender figure seemingly crawled over him. He went to work next tucking the both of them in the bed. And then finally, Kurt took Blaine's face again in his. He rubbed his cheeks with his thumbs.

And than he brushed their lips together for the second time that night. This time, he held the kiss and Blaine found himself completely enraptured. He snaked his arms around Kurt's waist and moaned softly against the other's mouth. Two pairs of eyelids fluttered shut as both men found themselves lost in this embrace. Both were falling like birds shot from the sky. A sad simile but still, it was needed for how fast they were falling for each other. And before they knew it, Kurt had broken the kiss, both of them with hitched breathing.

"Good night Blaine," Kurt said in a lowest of whispers. He turned on his side and clutched Blaine's hand, pulling it comfortingly around his waist more and sliding backwards to press his body into the other man's arms. The shorter man was taken aback by the gesture but welcomed it. He buried his face in the back of Kurt's neck and the two of them drifted off to sleep.

**A/N: How was it? I do hope it was worth the wait. I'm playing the story by ear as I'm not exactly sure where it's going to go or how long it will end up being. But we shall see, yeah? Reviews please! No better gift than a nice review. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays guys! Now here's the good news, the RP I belong to is on shutdown until the 26th so I'll hopefully be updating my stories more during this time! Anyway, enjoy!**


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